


Imaginary Realms

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universes, Canon Compliant, Drinking, Jessidy Hiatus Challenge, Kisses, possibilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8060692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: Cass and Jesse sit down for a beer. There are too many ways this can end. 
(Written for the Jessidy Hiatus Challenge: "Favorite Jessidy Moment")





	

In the church’s sweltering kitchen Jesse is in the process of handing Cass a beer, the top already popped and the act halfway completed. 10:00am and the bottle glistens, slick in his palm. Each drop of condensation contains fractals, light from the dingy bulbs reflected there, and within each fractal are immeasurable possibilities. These, then, are just a few among many.

 

***

 

They both feel it, the second when the bottle passes between them and then suddenly stops, held by neither, briefly suspended in the space between their hands before falling and shattering to the floor. Beer washes between Jesse’s toes. Cass jumps back, wanting to avoid shards with bare feet. Though after that they play their roles perfectly. Cass curses up a storm and goes to grab towels off the oven door. Jesse wanders aimlessly towards closet where he thinks there might have been a dustpan once. He places his own bottle on the table.

 

It’s a moment where Cass could have admitted to vampire reflexes. (“I could have caught that, Padre.”) It’s also a moment where Jesse could have offered him a second beer.

 

In the end, it’s a moment where they do neither.

 

***

 

This time the bottle passes without incident and they each take their seats—Cass on top of the table, Jesse across from him. They move through their script until the tattoos come up and when Jesse torques his body to show the fine lines of a tulip, Cass stumbles to his feet. There’s a new moment where he says—

 

***

 

“She’s yours?” (A question.)

 

***

 

“She’s yours.” (Resignation.)

 

***

 

Another moment entirely where he says, “She’s _mine_.”

 

***

 

Still a fourth, where instead of speaking Cass ambles over, turning Jesse so he can see the hard muscles in his back, the scrapes and raw pieces there. This Cass uses his tongue to trace the scars before pouring the rest of his beer over Jesse’s shoulders, then smashing the bottle and shifting through the pieces, meticulous until he finds the perfect shard to work with. He retraces the scars then, opening them up. When Cass gets to the tattoo he’s barely careful at all, just adding his work atop another’s.

 

Cass doesn’t need to say “ours’” this time.

 

***

 

There’s a moment where they take out beers, discuss tattoos, keep their secrets, and the only difference is that at the end of it all Jesse pulls a face and reminds Cass that they have a recycling bin out back, thanks. They might murder a person here and there, but goddammit, they don’t need to fuck up their trash too.

 

Cass throws his head back and laughs, giddy. Alright then, padre. He passes the empty bottle back... and this time their fingers brush.

 

***

 

Some moments don’t become moments, for the simple reason that there’s too much bullshit to wade through to get there. Or, in the boys’ case, foolishness.

 

There’s a Cass out there who contests Jesse as Vinnie and a playful argument ensues. They never do get to the beer.

 

***

 

A moment, close on the heels of another, where Cass doesn’t care if it’s cold only with the washer running. Why would he? He’s cleaned up in far worse before.

 

At the prospect of drinking alone Jesse grabs two beers and follows Cass upstairs, technically uninvited... but when had they ever accomplished shit with words? They’re already stripped but for that final layer. Trembling with something like need. Jesse shoves Cass under the freezing faucet and watches his limbs really jerk, laughing at the curses he howls at the tile. It’s too damn cold for much play, but they get the chance to explore at least.

 

They drink the beer under the spray and it’s the warmest thing between them.

 

***

 

In some moments Cass gets distracted. By Jesse’s body on full display. The easy conversation. His willingness to toast an abomination.

 

These easily outweigh all the others. Cass is amazed, every single time around.

 

***

 

Less happily, there’s an awful moment where Jesse hears “fell in love” and fixates on it, worrying it like a scab—pulling away that protective layer again and again. He turns away from Cass and kicks the washer. It’s not a necessary action, but one born entirely out of jealousy.

 

He breaks two toes, because he’s an idiot like that. Still, it has Cass fussing over him (“You tellin’ me I gotta go _back_ to hospital?”) and he doesn’t mention love again. At least not as it pertains to anyone else. And really, that’s all Jesse dares ask for.

 

***

 

“You want a beer?”

 

“Nah, man. It’s early even for me, ain’t it?”

 

That’s the end of that.

 

***

 

The beginning though is when Jesse says, “You want a beer?” and Cass wants something else entirely. Living as long as he has, this Cass—in this moment— _takes_ what he wants.

 

There’s the walk forward and slide of his hands over Jesse’s ass, only poor-man’s cotton between them. The heat has them both perspiring and Cass was right, he really _does_ smell something awful. Jesse hardly seems to mind though. He nudges hard until Cass slots his lips against his, the two of them perfect in an imperfect meeting of teeth and noses. It’s sloppy. Rough. Cass kisses tellingly—this is the only chance he’ll get. Jesse’s kiss tries to convince him that they have all the time in the world. Every moment imaginable.

 

Cass would say Jesse tastes like beer, but they haven’t had the chance to try it yet.

 

***

 

(“I went through a period of low impulse control,” he says panting, offering.

 

“I hope that’s not over with...” and Jesse solidifies the moment. The one they were searching for.

 

They never return to the drinks. It’s nothing and everything like impulse.)

 

***

 

In every moment, Jesse offers Cass a beer.

 

 


End file.
